“You know, Quinn, just because I already have a lot of sisters, doesn’t mean I’m not excited about getting a new one.”
* * *
“How is she?” Thomas asked, when Will came into the common room a little while later.
“She’s good. Not really in serious labor yet. It’s going to be a long day, I think. Maybe a long night. Right now, she’s playing Choice with Mother, Linnea, and Howard. You can go in if you want.”
“Can I go?” Emma asked, jumping up from the little table.
“Sure,” Thomas said, standing and taking her hand. “Alex, do you want to?”
Alex’s emphatic “No!” made William chuckle, he knew exactly how his little brother felt. He loved Rebecca, but this was a little too much for him. He was hoping desperately that Nathaniel would get back before he actually had to do anything.
“Can I go play?”
William glanced down at the page of math problems Alex had been working. Alex had finished more than Emma had, so he figured it was only fair, and he nodded.
“You can sure clear a room fast,” Quinn said, once everyone had gone.
“We could go, too,” he told her.
She frowned. “There’re a lot of people in there already. I don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s really doing okay?”
William smiled, relieved. “She’s good. Excited, I think. If someone other than me was here to help her, I’d be excited, too. It’s hard to believe I’m going to be an uncle.” He sat down next to Quinn on the couch, and she took his hand.
“Not how you wanted to spend your day is it?”
“I like the idea of delivering babies – but not like this.”
“I know. I can’t imagine Rebecca is thrilled about it, either. I love my little brother to pieces, but I wouldn’t want him anywhere near me if I was in labor.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
“Thomas and I sent a message to Nathaniel, hoping he’ll hurry back.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Hey, I have a question.”
“What?”
“It’s just . . . it doesn’t seem like Rebecca’s been pregnant for what would be nine months in my world.”
“Oh. Right. I never thought about explaining that to you. She hasn’t been. For whatever reason, pregnancy in our world is exactly the same as it is in yours. Somewhere around two hundred and eighty days.”
“How is that possible, when everything else is so different?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how any of it is possible. My best theory is that something about the atmosphere in each world dictates how people age, but it doesn’t affect pregnancy, which is regulated by something else.”
“By what?”
“I don’t know. Whatever it is that regulates a woman’s body, I suppose. Anyway, it’s probably a good thing. I mean, I’m not the girl here, but if I was you, and I was trying to choose between the two worlds, I think the one where you’d have to be pregnant for ten times as long would be a deal breaker.”
She giggled. “I suppose it might – if I was pregnant.”
“Well, someday you will be.”
Her eyes grew much too wide, and heat rushed up his neck as he realized he’d been making a very big assumption. “You do want to have children someday, don’t you?” It had never crossed his mind before that she’d grown up in a world that was different from his in this way, too – in her world it wasn’t just a given that people would have children when they got married.
“Yeah . . . I mean, yes, I do. That is just way far ahead of where my mind is right now.”
He laughed, more from relief than anything. “Well, I wasn’t thinking it would be tomorrow.”
“William?” The voice from the doorway startled them both.
“What, Simon?”
“Have you seen Maxwell?”
“No. Not since breakfast, I don’t think.” He turned to Quinn, and she shook her head.
Simon sighed. “He’s probably off with Catherine again somewhere. He’s never around when we need him.”
“What’s going on?”
“The last patrol of the bridge saw some more refugees in the area, after it had just been clear again the day before yesterday.” He looked meaningfully at William. “I don’t think there’s going to be any chance we can try the gate again tomorrow.”
William stole a glance at Quinn, but she only nodded. It was news she’d been expecting.
“Let me know if you see Maxwell,” Simon said, before he disappeared down the hall.
3. Fire
“I know, girl, a ride around the paddock is not the same as a real one, I’m sorry,” Quinn said, holding out an apple to Dusk. The horse snuffed at it, but then snatched it out of her hand. “It could be worse, you know,” she admonished. “I haven’t left.”
William was standing in the stall next to her, brushing out Skittles. She didn’t have to look at him to know that sentence had gotten his attention. The gate had opened again the night before last, and she knew he was worried about her, but he hadn’t asked her about it. Maybe he was afraid of upsetting her.
“I had a dream the other night,” she told him.
He stopped brushing. “A nightmare?”
“No, not really. It was very vivid; I felt like I was really there.”
“Where?”
“Bristlecone.”
He set down the brush and walked over to the wooden half-wall that separated the two stalls. “Tell me.”
“It was like it was normal. You and I both went to the gate and went through. It must have been a Sunday night, I think, because I got up and went to school the next morning. You were there, too.”
“Not avoiding you, I hope.”
She looked into his eyes. “I’m not even sure I could imagine that while I was sleeping anymore. It’s hard to believe you ever used to do that.”
“That’s probably the biggest regret I have, you know – that I treated you that way.”
“You didn’t know.”
His gaze was intense. “Does that matter? I mean, when you first came here, you didn’t know anyone; this wasn’t your life, and still you were nice to everyone. I do realize now that I could have acted like a decent human being, even if I was keeping a secret.”
She ran her hand down the side of his face. “Well, in my dream, you did. You walked me to my first class, and we sat together at lunch.”
He smiled. “I would have liked that.”
“Zander was mad. So was Abigail. Nobody else was talking to me.”
His face dropped. “I thought you said it wasn’t a nightmare.”
“It wasn’t really. It was hard at first, but you were there. After school, I went over to your house, and we did our homework together. And then . . . it was a dream, you know, so it wasn’t just one day. Eventually, Zander moved on. Maybe he started dating someone else, or something, I don’t know. And Abigail could only be mad for so long before she was just dying to know more about the elusive William Rose.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, my anonymity would be in deep trouble in about thirty seconds, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t think I’d give it that long.”
He reached for her hand. “It would be kind of fun – to walk around Bristlecone High School, holding your hand.”
“It was good in my dream.” Her stomach gave a little flip at his answering smile.
“So what else happened?”
She shrugged. “The details are mostly vague, but I think there were lots of things. You having dinner with my family, helping Owen with his math the way you do with Alex sometimes. . . ”
He squeezed her hand. “I’d love to know Owen like that.”
Her cheeks warmed a little at the next part. “You asked me to prom.”
“Well, that’s a given,” he said, sliding his finger under her chin to lift her gaze back to his face. What kind of dress did you wear?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t really looking
at me.”
“I would have been.”
“Anyway, it was all just stuff like that . . . maybe just an idea of what it would be like if we were normal teenagers in Bristlecone.” She’d stopped short of telling him about the part of her dream where he’d proposed to her shortly before graduation, not knowing how he’d feel about that. Not knowing how she felt about it.
He pulled her hand to his lips; his breath was warm against her knuckles. “We could do that, you know, if that’s what you want. At some point, we’re going to be able to get back to the gate again, and we could go back to Bristlecone and have all of that. We could still get back there long before spring break is over.”
“You would do that?”
“Yes, I would. I’m in this, Quinn. Please don’t make your decision based on me. In some ways, it would be a lot less complicated, wouldn’t it? If we just had a simple life there – graduation, college. . . ”
“Would it really be less complicated, do you think?”
He shrugged. “It sounds less complicated.”
She nodded, and stretched across the wall to kiss him on the cheek. “Everything sounds less complicated when you’re not in the middle of it.” She picked up Dusk’s brush and was about to walk back toward the horse when William grabbed her hand again.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.
She frowned. “Yeah, I’m fine. A little tired maybe, but what else is new?”
He ran his hand over the back of her arm for a minute, and then reached to brush across her forehead. “You just feel like you might be a tiny bit warm.”
“It’s hot in here,” she said. “And we’re working.”
“If you’re sure you’re okay.”
“I’m sure.” She headed back to Dusk. He watched her for a minute, and then returned to what he’d been doing.
The thing was . . . the other parts of her dream that she hadn’t told him about, weren’t really less complicated. They were just different. In her dream, William had proposed to her before graduation – before his graduation, which was coming up in just three short months in her world. And her mother had been furious, refusing to let her see William anymore.
There’d been a summer of balancing on eggshells – dividing their time between his world and hers, and then the prospect of another long school year before her graduation. She’d been left to deal with a year at school without him, with William far away at college somewhere while she navigated her senior year with friends who were okay, but who no longer meant to her what they once had. Friends she’d be leaving behind permanently in a year, anyway.
Sure, life in her world wouldn’t involve making a choice about whether to try to take a crown in a kingdom on the verge of war. Her family and friends there weren’t in constant danger, weren’t battling someone like Tolliver. But that didn’t mean life there would be easier.
“Everything okay?” he asked, again.
“Yeah, it really is, Will.” The concerned look on his face made her reach up to feel her forehead for herself. It was damp, but she was sweating from the work. She was fine. “It’s just…the dream gave me a lot to think about, that’s all.”
“Why didn’t tell me about it when you had it? I mean, not that I’m entitled to know everything you dream about, but you usually tell me about them when you remember them.”
She smiled. “I usually like to tell you… it was just the other night, when the baby was born. You were a little preoccupied.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Although Nathaniel, fortunately, had gotten the message, and made it back to the castle well before Rebecca delivered the beautiful little boy, William had still been up pacing the hallway in nervousness and excitement, ready – if a little hesitant – to lend a hand if needed.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?” The hand with the brush fell to her side, and she cocked her ear toward the door. “Is someone yelling?”
“I think so.”
She listened again for a second. There were definitely several voices – men’s voices; the yelling was coming from the direction of the castle.
William was already outside Skittles’ stall, latching the gate.
* * *
Quinn and William were running across the lawn toward the castle when she first noticed the clouds.
At first, they looked like rain clouds – the kind they’d been seeing every afternoon, always promising a storm that never materialized – but something wasn’t quite right. They were moving in too quickly, for one thing – a solid line of thick clouds was advancing from the east, even though the sky was perfectly clear and blue from every other direction. Although there was a strong breeze blowing, it was hot, carrying no hint of the cool air an approaching storm would bring.
Just before they ducked into one of the service entrances, she caught the barest hint of a smell that made her heart sink all the way to her stomach.
By the time they reached the main hall and found Linnea standing just inside of the massive front doors, Quinn knew her expression matched the stricken one on Linnea’s face.
“Where’s the fire?” she asked.
“I saw the smoke, just to the south,” Linnea said. “In the woods – it looked like it might be near the bridge. A couple of soldiers just came rushing in – they were headed toward my father’s office.”
Near the bridge. A shudder ripped through her body. From the other end of the hallway, Thomas was approaching, looking as worried as she felt, and she could sense that someone was close behind her. She didn’t even have to look to know it was Ben Westbrook, who had lately taken it upon himself to be her personal guard. He’d probably been out near the stables somewhere, too, keeping a respectful distance so as not to interfere with her privacy, but also keeping a watchful eye.
William’s hand found hers, cold and clammy, but comforting all the same.
Not knowing what to say, she just nodded.
The procession to Stephen’s private office was silent. The heavy door was closed when they arrived, but Quinn didn’t even stop to knock; she just opened the door and went in. Behind her, she saw William hesitate for only a fraction of a second before he followed, leading the rest of them into the room.
Nathaniel was there, standing huddled in a circle with King Stephen and two soldiers. Dark gray circles underneath her uncle’s eyes told her more than she wanted to know. Simon and Maxwell were in the room, too, sitting in two of the armchairs, quietly discussing something.
The soldiers’ uniforms were both soaked in sweat; they’d clearly been riding as hard as they could to get here. When he saw Quinn enter the room, Stephen said something in low tones to the two men, and they quickly excused themselves from the room, closing the door behind them.
Quinn stopped before she reached Stephen and Nathaniel and just stood there, unable to make herself go one step further. She didn’t want to hear this.
Linnea, of course, needed to hear it for herself. “It’s the bridge, isn’t it?”
Stephen nodded. “We have some sources telling us that the fire may have started near where the refugees were camping. We can’t get anyone into the area. I don’t know if the bridge is affected.”
Quinn’s knees felt wobbly. William quickly moved behind her, and with his hand on her back, led her over to one of the couches.
“Our biggest concern right now,” Stephen continued, making his way over to a couch across from her, “is that the fire is spreading quickly through the area. It’s heavily wooded there, but it isn’t going to take much for it to reach some of the outlying homes. I’m told there are already reports of heavy smoke on some of the farms that aren’t far from there.”
“I’m going,” William said.
“Of course,” Stephen answered. “You can go to the emergency camp. Nathaniel and I were already discussing what kinds of supplies we need to be gathering, and making sure that our standard preparations are enough to care for our own people, as well as any refugees who were camping
there. We need to look at what we can provide to anyone who may have lost their shelters and food supplies with the fire as well.”
Maxwell’s head snapped up. “These are the same people we’ve been worrying about for how long now? We still don’t know who they are or where they keep coming from. We don’t know if there’s someone who’s behind all of this, or how compromised that gate may have already been.”
Stephen’s gaze was level as he looked at his second-born son. “I may not know who those people are, Maxwell, but I do know who I am. They’re in my kingdom, and if they’ve suffered a loss, we will help them.”
“I’m going too,” Quinn said.
“It’s too dangerous,” Nathaniel answered. “You’re the biggest thing we’re trying to protect.”
“I don’t care. There’s no sense protecting someone who does nothing but sit uselessly inside a castle doing nothing when there’s an emergency. I’ll help set up the clinic and stay there. I’ll pass out supplies. I’m not staying here by myself.”
Ben, who had been standing silently by the door, stepped forward now. “I’ll go with her.”
Stephen closed his eyes for several seconds, appearing deep in thought.
“I’m sure we’ll need the help, Father,” Simon said. “There are so many in our kingdom right now who are fed up with having so many refugees and living with the uncertainty of not knowing what is going to happen. Many of them are going to be unwilling to help foreigners right now. And if any of our own people’s homes are destroyed, everyone will be that much angrier. We need to set the example we want to see.”
Stephen opened his eyes and nodded. “You may go into the emergency camp or other areas we set up to help, Quinn. As much as we all want to know what’s happened to the gate, though, nobody is going anywhere near that area until the fire is fully contained. Understood?”
“Stephen!” Nathaniel protested, but Stephen turned a steely gaze on him. “She’s an adult, Nathaniel. I don’t actually have the authority to even ask what I’m asking of her. I can’t stop her from making her own choices. The most I can do is request, and, honestly, I see Simon’s point. What good does it do anyone to keep her hidden away here in the castle?”
Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four) Page 3
